


Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

by IfOnlyItWasCanon



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Awkward Conversations, First Kiss, Fluff, I really have no clue how to tag this?, Love Confessions, M/M, No Smut, Queen - Freeform, Really this is just self-indulgent fluff, awkward everything really, but like..., smut-adjascent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:50:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfOnlyItWasCanon/pseuds/IfOnlyItWasCanon
Summary: After some fairly awkward drunken cuddling and an unfortunate music selection, Crowley is sure that this night can't get any worse. But maybe it has the potential to get a whole lot better.





	Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

**Author's Note:**

> hello folks! whenever I hear this song (Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen- one of my faves), I think of these two, so I thought I might as well write it. sorry if it seems rushed, I tried to make the dialogue able to fit the song (I failed, for the record), and I didn't realize how short the song actually was, rip. anyways, hope you like it!

It was a busy Saturday night at the Ritz, and two figures could be seen stumbling out into the warm summer air, deep in discussion and more than a little drunk.

"It's not that you're, y'know, unlikable." said Crowley. "You just... don't get out much."

"I guess..." said Aziraphale, a doubtful expression on his face.

"Oh, don't be like that. You need to have self con- confer- confinence-" He paused for a moment. "You gotta, y'know, believe in yourself."

"I know, I know..." said Aziraphale as the two wandered unsteadily towards the Bentley. "It's just, well, I don't exactly..." He scrunched his face up in concentration. "I don't exactly socialize much, do I? Crowley, we've been friends for five thousand- four thousand- well, a really long time."

"Mmhm."

"Be honest. Am I... awkward? Stuffy? I mean, I love the bookshop, but sitting around inside all day reading dusty old tomes isn't exactly-"

"Don't say that, angel!" exclaimed Crowley, loudly enough to startle a few passerby. "There's nothing wrong with you! You're perfectly... uh... perfect."

Aziraphale contemplated this as they got into the car. "What's so good about me?"

"Well, there's..." Many things, Crowley thought. "You're... nice. Very nice. And smart. You're like, a genius." He looked at the angel as he continued to think. "And you... have a cute face."

"You think my face is cute?" asked Aziraphale, giggling.

"It's just... nice, is all." said Crowley. He could feel heat rising in his face.

"You think my face is cute!" Aziraphale collapsed onto the demon, laughing.

"Oh, shut up." he replied, looking resolutely in the opposite direction.

"Admit it, you love me." laughed the angel, poking Crowley's side. "You loooooooove me!

"Shut up." repeated Crowley, but he was also grinning, and had slung his arm across Aziraphale's shoulders.

Once the laughter finally died down, the two just sat together for a while, leaning against one another. Eventually, Aziraphale spoke up.

"We should go. It's getting late."

"Mmhm."

"I have to open the... um... the bookshop in the morning."

"Mmhm."

"Got to sell... books..."

"Mmhm."

"Really, Crowley, wake up." He flicked Crowley in the face.

"Hey! I'm awake, I'm awake! I'll drive, jeez."

"Don't drive drunk. It's not safe for the ped... pedestrin... the, er, walkers."

"Oh, who cares about the walkers?"

"I do. And anyway, you might, um, crash the Bentley."

"I would never crash the Bentley!" exclaimed Crowley, affronted.

"Still. Best to be careful."

"Oh, all right. But only if you sober up, too."

Aziraphale let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine. If you say so."

After a few moments of coughing, spluttering, and shaking, the two reopened their eyes. Aziraphale rubbed his eyes, reached for his glasses, and took stock of his position (under Crowley's arm). At the very same moment, Crowley yawned, reached for his own glasses, and determined Aziraphale's position (tucked against his side).

A moment later, both jumped to opposite sides of the car as though they had been shocked.

What followed was a flurry of words that were too fast for either party to understand.

"Oh, I, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to -"

"No, no, really, it's my fault, I shouldn't have -"

"I mean, it's not that -"

"Oh, no, of course not, definitely not-"

"I just got, er, carried away, I certainly didn't mean to -"

"Oh, of course not, we were just drunk, and, and-"

"I meant nothing by it."

"Precisely. Nothing was meant by it."

What followed this was an incredibly awkward silence as the car pulled out of the parking lot.

"I, uh- I'll just-" Crowley fumbled in the glove box for a moment before pulling out a tape titled 'Handel's Water Music'. He quickly shoved it into the cassette slot before the awkward silence became overwhelming. " _I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things..._ " crooned Freddie Mercury. " _we can do the tango just for two_."

Crowley felt his heart fall through the floor of the car. Aziraphale glanced at him, and somehow the brief moment of eye contact was infinitely worse than any amount of awkward silence could ever have been.

"Um, I mean, uh, we don't necessarily have to listen to, er, why don't I just-" Crowley attempted to stammer out a sentence that would keep Aziraphale distracted from the lyrics as he desperately tried to eject the tape. However, the cassette refused to budge, and just as Crowley considered smashing the radio to pieces, Freddie Mercury launched into the chorus.

" _Ooh, love! Ooh, lover boy, whatcha doin' tonight?_ "

Crowley stared directly ahead, eyes fixed on the road, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He was sure that, had he been human, he would be dead by this point. Screw Hell, this was true eternal torment.

Aziraphale hesitantly spoke up from the passenger's seat. "If- you know- you want me to- er- Well, I could find my own way back home." "No!" Crowley responded, and then again, calmer, "No, I mean, it's no trouble." Really, this was ridiculous. They were both grown adults, no need to make things difficult. "I mean, it's only a song." said Crowley. "Indeed, no need to get worked up about it." replied Aziraphale.

Aziraphale leaned over and began struggling with the cassette player. "It looks like it's stuck- here, just let me-"

" _Let me feel your heartbeat grow faster, faster..._ "

Aziraphale sat back up, flustered. "That's- er- that's not what I was going to say."

Crowley let out a deep sigh. "Listen, this is... um... awkward, but it's all fine. The song's only a few minutes long. After all-"

" _After all, I'd like for you and I to go romancing, say the word, your wish is my command..._ "

"I, I swear that's not what I was going to say."

For a few more deeply uncomfortable moments, neither said anything. After what seemed like an eternity, Aziraphale finally interjected.

"I mean, it's not that you're not a, well, a, perfectly lovely individual, by which-"

"Oh, no, I understand entirely, after all, you too are-"

"And I am by no means offended by the prospect of-"

"Oh, definitely, I would have no, er, moral objections to, well, you, and, I, that is to say-"

"It's just that well, it's, it's..."

"It's not like that." Crowley finished.

"Precisely. It's not like that.".

They said nothing for another few moments.

Crowley opened his mouth to speak. He shut it. He opened it again. He hesitated. Then he said, "I mean, it's not that I don't, because, I, well, I do."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "My dear, I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean."

Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back, before nervously continuing.

"What I mean to say is that- well, what I mean is, I do, Aziraphale, I-"

" _I love you... love you..._ " sang Freddie Mercury.

"Er." said Crowley. "What he said."

"Ah." said Aziraphale. And then, "Well."

"Well?" asked Crowley anxiously.

"Well, my dear, I'm... not certain what to say."

"Well, I just wanted you to know, that even though it's, er, not like that, it's not because I don't-"

"I love you, too."

"What?"

"I said, I love-"

"I know what you said, it's just..."

"You didn't think I'd feel the same?"

"No, it's just... Strange, hearing it out loud."

"Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.

Aziraphale laid a reassuring hand on Crowley's. "I do appreciate you, er, telling me."

He did not remove his hand. Rather, it fell to Crowley's thigh, which he patted in a gesture which was meant to be friendly and comforting, but only succeeded in making both of them increasingly nervous.

Still, he did not remove it.

"Um. Yes." said Crowley, who placed a hand on top of Aziraphale's in a manner that was meant to be nonchalant. (However, the fact that said hand was shaking and somewhat sweaty made coming across as 'nonchalant' rather difficult.)

After another moment of hesitation, Crowley continued. “Say. Do you remember, back when all that Armageddon business happened, and I told you that-” Before he could finish, he was cut off by a sudden guitar solo.

"Oh, G- Satan." said Crowley hopelessly. "It's Freddie Mercury's ghost. He's tormenting us from beyond the grave. I can feel it."

"Or..." said Aziraphale hesitantly. "Or maybe... It's a sign?"

Crowley's heart almost stopped. "A sign?"

"You know." said Aziraphale. "A sign. From the... universe."

"Well..." said Crowley, scarcely breathing. "What is the... universe... trying to tell us?"

Aziraphale took a deep breath. "Maybe... that we should... you know, um..."

And he leaned forward, grabbed Crowley, and kissed him.

"Ah. Yes." said Crowley, a little dazed. "I think that the, um, universe wants you to keep doing that."

They toppled forward into the seat as the Bentley began to steer itself.

"Do you- mmph- want to go back to the bookstore?" asked Crowley, pulling off his suit jacket.

"Ah- just take me back to yours, that would be fine." replied Aziraphale.

" _Just take me back to yours, that would be fine._ " echoed Freddie Mercury.

"Yeah, okay." murmured Crowley against the angel's cheek.

" _Come on and get it._ " sang the radio.

Crowley pushed Aziraphale backwards into the passenger seat of the Bentley until they were both lying down, at which point the angel flipped him over and began to press kisses to his neck.

"Oh, yeah, the universe is into that."

"Very good. Now would you mind helping me unbutton this-"

"Gladly."

" _Everything's alright, just hold on tight, that's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy._ "

The music ended.

Crowley reached out an arm and hit 'replay'. 

**Author's Note:**

> is a 'replay' button something that an old Bentley actually has? good question! the answer is no  
> anyway, hope you liked it! love ya!  
> edit: the hit count on this went way up after the trailer was released dfhjf I love that


End file.
